


Of A Musician, A Therapist, and All Those In Need of the Penultimate

by grahamhannah53



Category: Peanuts
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5169572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grahamhannah53/pseuds/grahamhannah53
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy is now a therapist in her hometown, and Schroeder is... an accountant. Miserable and resigned, Schroeder is forced into a visit with Lucy to sort out his problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of A Musician, A Therapist, and All Those In Need of the Penultimate

Cheers erupted from every corner of the high school auditorium, and many audience members had tears streaming down their faces from the overwhelming tide of emotions the performance had elicited from the unexpecting crowd of viewers. Several of the onlookers seemed shocked that the boy on stage was capable of such an amazing feat, but not her—no, not Lucy, who had heard more of that sweet, moving music than anyone present. She had been there when this composition had been three notes written on a sheet of paper that had been balled and un-balled repeatedly, and she had witnessed the mastermind’s fit of pure joy when it was finished. She had also seen his insecurities getting the best of him as he rehearsed and perfected the piece, and though she never said it, he knew that she believed in him. The look on his face as he bowed to the adoring crowd was one of humble happiness, and he was practically aglow, the stage lights making his honey-blonde hair glow gold. He looked like a pure angel, and Lucy couldn’t keep the smile off of her own face as she made her way to the front of the crowd to congratulate the pianist on his awe-inspiring performance.

“Gee Schroeder, you did amazing!” exclaimed Charlie Brown, one of Lucy’s friends since they were all in diapers.

“Really, you were amazing,” chimed in her younger brother Linus. “I’ve never seen anything like it! You’re a regular Beethoven!”

Schroeder blushed upon hearing this magnificent praise, and he shook his head. “I’m no Beethoven, but thank you. I’ve still got a long way to go.”

“You did a perfect job, Schroeder,” Lucy called up to him. “Simply perfect, just like you practiced, but better.”

The blonde stuck his tongue out at her and replied with a sassy, “You showed up.”

Lucy folded her arms, tossing her dark hair. “Of course I did.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Of course you were. I’m paying for supper tonight for the whole gang to celebrate, so you better be glad I did.”

That shut him up, and as soon as he was finished receiving compliments from the folks around him, they left to eat together for the last time before all of them graduated. All of these people, from her to Charlie Brown, had all grown up with one another, played baseball, and had learned each other more than they would ever learn any school subject. Lucy had never thought about being sad when she left this place, but now she was beginning to wonder what she was going to do with her life without even the most annoying of these blockheads. Who was she going to boss around when she wasn’t living in the same house and Linus and Rerun? Who was there to obsess over when she and Schroeder were no longer neighbors? Who else could she tease but Charlie Brown?

These questions hit her like a brick in the face as they all ate together, and she was all of the sudden very, very sad. It couldn’t end with them not staying together… no, they would always come back together sometime, right?

 

 

***Seven Years Later***

 

“There are many ways to trap a man, Charlie Brown, but I swear this is lower than I ever thought you’d come to!”

“Schroeder, I’m only doing this for your own good,” said the man on the other side of the door. “I paid for the appointment and everything… Schroeder, you need help!”

“No I don’t!” yelled the blonde, pushing against the door. “I’m absolutely _fine._ ”

“You’re an _accountant,_ of course you need help!”

Schroeder groaned, giving up. The last thing he needed was another reminder of his current occupation. “ _One_ visit, Charlie Brown. _One_.”

“That’s all I ask for,” he replied, still not opening the door. “Have fun. Call me to pick you up when the appointment is over.”

Schroeder turned around and straightened his tie, preparing to tell his name to the receptionist, when his name was called anyway, and he was lead down a hallway by a nurse.

“The doctor will be in with you in just a second. Feel free to grab drinks and snacks as you please.”

 _Snacks?_ Schroeder looked around, and, sure enough, there were snacks, the only chairs were bean bags, and the room was colored all in pastel blues and greens, and the whole place had an air about it that he recognized, though from where, he didn’t know. Carefully, he sat on a bean bag and grabbed a cookie off of the plate nearest him. They were _delicious,_ and he thought he might be able to get used to this place.

That was _before_ he met the doctor.

When she first walked in, all he saw was her high-top converse shoes, and she greeted him with the friendly “Hello, I will be your doctor today,” speech. He caught her name as Lucy, but until she sat down right in front of him, in a navy blue shirt and jeans, with her now-long dark hair and dark eyes, he didn’t realize who she really was.

Apparently, she hadn’t realized who he was either, because when she looked up from her clipboard, her eyes went wide with astonishment and she whispered his name like it was a secret.

“Lucy?” he asked, still questioning whether or not it was her. “Lucy van Pelt?”

“In the flesh,” she smiled. “Schroeder, how you’ve matured! Apparently too quickly. Never thought I’d see you in my office.”

“Me either,” he mumbled under his breath.

“So, tell me about your life. Not the part I know, of course. After we graduated. Tell me all about it,” she said, leaning forward. “Or, do you want me to go first?”

“You first,” he replied automatically. _No need to tell her about my failures right off the bat_.

Lucy just smiled, and he wondered since when she had become so happy instead the fussbudget she used to be. He guessed that’s what happened when one’s life ambition had been fulfilled. Not that he would know.

“Well, I got my degree in this insanity (no pun intended), which took forever and a day. In fact, I only started three months ago. I almost drowned in school work, but here I am. I made it. Linus stays holed up at home writing his best-sellers—have you read them, by chance?”

Schroeder smiled absently. “Oh yeah. I told you he was going to go places. Feel sorry about bullying him yet?”

“I never bullied him; I only told him what he needed to hear. Besides, he wouldn’t be the person he is now without my influence, now would he?”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be able to understand human suffering so well if he hadn’t had to live in a house with you for so long,” Schroeder joked.

Lucy kicked him lightly. “Shut up, you blockhead. I’m a great sister.”

“ _Sure_.”

“Anyways, what about _your_ life, Mr. Schroeder? What brings you to my humble place of work?”

Schroeder internally groaned. “Charlie Brown brings me to your _humble place of work_. I didn’t come here because I need to, or because I want to.”

“Good grief, if Charlie Brown knew you need help, you must be bad off,” Lucy frowned.

“I am not bad off!” Schroeder exclaimed.

“Prove it. Tell me what has happened to you since high school. I want every detail,” Lucy once again leaned forward, her hair, which had once been short and mostly straight with little curls at the ends, now falling forward in large spiral curls.

“Well, uh, you see, I went to this, this music academy, and I excelled, until I had to perform. It was like… Like I had lost my ability to play or something. I was eventually kicked out, and I’m working as an accountant for--”

It took a while for his brain to comprehend that Lucy’s arms were wrapped around his torso, squeezing him tightly to her. “I am so, so sorry Schroeder. What happened? You were amazing; I remember it like it was yesterday. Remember that day you performed in our high school auditorium, and everyone was in tears? Remember that? It was so beautiful, so moving!”

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s like I was missing something, you know?”

“Schroeder, you still have that ability in you. I know it,” she stated confidently. “I _will_ find it, and I _will_ fix you. You got that? You were never meant to be an accountant. You were created to fill people with so much emotion that they break down in _public._ You were born to woo an audience, born to perform.”

“Luce, I--”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, I’m not going to listen.”

“I didn’t even say but!”

“You were going to.”

“Lucy, I can’t go back to that,” he said, looking away from her. “I can’t… I can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

He switched gears, becoming a bit angry. “Do you know what it feels like to be utterly humiliated? To let absolutely everyone you know down? Tell me, have you had your life’s ambition crushed, had the only thing you were ever good at fall through on you?”

Lucy took his hand in both of hers, and in a gentle voice, said, “It’ll be okay. I can fix this, fix _you_. Just let me. I prescribe to you a day off tomorrow with me. We’re going to have a little fun the old way.”

“No, Lucy, I won’t--”

“Listen here, you _blockhead,_ the doctor prescribed you something so by gosh, you _do it!_ ” she yelled, completely ruining the tender atmosphere she’d created earlier.

“Okay, jeez,” he sighed. “I still can’t win with you.”

“Can’t, never could,” she winked. “Go home, Schroeder. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

 

***

 

Lucy pulled her hair up into a bun after a long day of work and flopped down on the couch, checking the messages on her phone.

**From: Linus**

‘ _I heard from Charlie Brown that you had a run-in with an old flame today. Everything go well? ;)’_

The brunette sighed and ignored that, scrolling to the next one.

**From: Unknown Number**

‘ _Hi Lucy, this is Schroeder. I don’t know if you have the same number or not, but I was wondering when and where we should meet tomorrow.’_

Lucy saved Schroeder’s number in her contacts and replied back faster than was strictly necessary.

**To: Schroeder**

_‘This is the right number. We’ll just start off at my office at eight and then we’ll see where the wind takes us, shall we?’_

Luckily for her, he replied back just as quickly.

**From: Schroeder**

‘ _That sounds fine. But please refrain from being so bossy. I’d hate for us to go back to the good old days, lol’_

Lucy sighed and sat down her phone. She was afraid this already felt too much like the good old days, except they were older, wiser, and more capable of screwing up permanently.

She had always been attracted to Schroeder. Since they were only children, she had loved the way he played the piano, and his quick, witty sarcasm that was in equal parts charming and annoying. His blonde hair had been a source of fascination too-- never had she seen anything with such a luster as that. But now, though, now he was tall, muscular, and handsome, with eyes the color of the sky on a bright summer day and skin tanned a perfect gold. He was very attractive, more so than she could ever have imagined in their youth, and yet he seemed so...repressed. He was obviously unhappy, and she knew why.

            How could he lose so treasured a gift? How could Schroeder, the king of the piano, the Beethoven of the twenty-first century, just _lose_ all that talent that he had worked so hard to perfect into a skill? What had _happened_ to the man?

            Lucy stood, stretching. She knew what they were going to do tomorrow. When you lose something, you go to the places you last had it. Now, all she needed to do was get a hot shower and figure out all that would stand in her way and how to eliminate it mercilessly. _That_ was a task she was very familiar with, and one she welcomed with open arms.

 

***

 

            “Good morning Schroeder,” Lucy said, waltzing into her office, even though they were clearly listening to four-four time.

            “Do you have any coffee?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

            “You hate coffee.”

            “But I like energy.”

            “No coffee, Schroeder. Now, are you ready to go?”

            Schroeder narrowed his eyes. “Go? I just got here!”

“Well, happiness is obviously no here, so we’re going to where it is,” she said, extending her hand to help him up. “You up for the challenge? Or are you still a _baby_?”           

“Good grief, Lucy, you’re supposed to be my therapist, not my bully!” Schroeder exclaimed. “Where are we even going?”

“You’ll see,” she said, flashing a mischievous grin. “First stop is ice cream at the old store we used to visit, if that makes you feel any better.”

He grinned, remembering the last time they visited that place together. “Remember when I ruined one of your ‘expensive, hand-pressed, pure silk’ blue dresses with ice cream because you interrupted my playing?”

She smiled. “Yeah. This one actually kinda looks like it, doesn’t it?”

Schroeder laughed. “It does, doesn’t it! Can I ruin this one if I pick you a flower this time too?”

“Bite me, blockhead. No, you can NOT!” Lucy laughed. “Now come on. I preordered.”

“Preordered? You don’t even know what I like! Plus, I refuse to let you pay for my food. It’s not manly, and I am nothing if not the epitome of masculinity.”

“I know a lot of things about you that you don’t remember showing me, Schroeder. I was very observant. Come on, let’s get your mint chocolate cone before they decide to throw it away!”

Schroeder immediately hopped up, following his childhood nemesis out the door, wondering how much she _actually_ remembered about him.

 

 

***

 

 

“You fascinate me.”

The phrase slipped out of Lucy’s mouth before she even realized that she had said it. She hoped he didn’t recall her saying that when they were children, when her infatuation was blatant, but the look he gave her over his mint chocolate ice cream let her know that he most certainly _did_ remember, but not much else about his feelings on that particular situation.

“Really? How?” he inquired, digging into the ice cream.

“Well, first of all, we’ve sat here for thirty minutes and you haven’t said a word. Usually, silence between two people of the opposite gender is awkward, but not with you. Secondly, you haven’t come up to breathe since you got that cone, and not only have you not taken a breath, but you have also not finished it, which is a wonder in itself. Thirdly—well, thirdly doesn’t matter.”

The attractive blonde man shrugged. “Well, then, if you can’t even come up with three reasons, then I guess I can’t believe you.”

Lucy folded her arms. “You can’t be serious. We are _not_ eight.”

“Truth is truth, lie is lie, get caught in the second and you’ll wear a rope necktie.”

 _What am I supposed to tell him, the truth? Yeah, he wouldn’t take too kindly to hearing that I thought that even those large, muscular pianist hands were attractive. Pick something else, Luce._ “Thirdly,” she grinned, having a new observation, “You _still_ haven’t noticed the ice cream on your t-shirt.”

“Luce! Really? You couldn’t have told me? Now it’ll probably stain, and--”

“Oh hush,” she said, wiping it away. “It’ll come right out. Don’t be a worry wart. When you’re finished, let’s take a walk, shall we?”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “In retrospect, I admit, I _am_ fascinating--”

“Can it, blockhead!”

“How much am I paying you for bullying me?” Schroeder quipped.

“You’re not paying me, Charlie Brown is,” Lucy pointed out. She whispered the amount in his ear, and the blonde chuckled.

“That’s a bit more than the five cents I’m used to paying,” he joked.

“Sure is easier to live off of though”

 

 

***

 

 

Schroeder walked alongside Lucy, who was a great deal shorter than he—much shorter than he originally thought, anyhow. They were walking their old neighborhood, leisurely strolling and bringing up memories from the past.

The two walked in silence for a bit, and Schroeder felt oddly close to the dark-haired girl walking beside him. They hadn’t spoken in years, and yet here they were, roaming around like they were the best of friends. It was phenomenal, the way they got along so well after so many years of complacent animosity. He supposed, though, that after you knew someone for so well, and for so long, that you would either love each other or hate each other. You can’t just _know_ so much about someone, the good, the bad, the annoying, and the indifferent, and _not_ feel strongly.

“I have had fun today,” she commenting, balancing on the edge of the sidewalk. “I just want to take you to one more place… go there for me? It might be a little tough, and if you don’t want to come, you can just leave. That’s okay.”

He gave her a sideways glance, wondering what she was thinking. “How can it be _tough?_ ”

“Just come with me.”

He followed her as she took off, having to take a little bigger strides to catch up with her. He recognized the path to their old high school, and didn’t even question why she had a key. He trailed behind her until they were at the bottom of the auditorium stage where sat a piano, the very same he had moved people with seven years ago.

All of the sudden, there was this pit in his stomach, one that made him queasy. He felt cold all over, and he wanted to scream. “Lucy--”

“Are you okay?” she asked, walking closer to him.

“No, no I want to leave. Lucy, let’s go! I need to leave, _now_!” he spoke in a whisper, but he felt like he was yelling.

“Okay. That’s fine. Let’s go,” she took his arm and lead him out, and Schroeder didn’t feel like he could breathe until they were outside, resting against the wall of the school.

“You did good, Schroeder. Really good,” Lucy said, patting his shoulder. “Next week, same time, same place, I want us to meet back, okay?”

Schroeder nodded. “Okay. Can I go home now?”

“Yeah. See you next week,” she said, walking the opposite way. “Call me if you need something.”

Schroeder shook his head. He had a lot to think about. He watched as Lucy’s womanly hips sashayed out of sight, and he wondered what had made her so intimidating way back when. She really was short.

 

 

***

 

 

Lucy let the hot water soak into her as she replayed the day’s events. She wished she could just _fix_ Schroeder—it was just so unnatural for him to _run_ at the sight of a piano. She remembered when they were young, how confidently he would play and how firmly he believed that Beethoven was nearly God, and he was nearly Beethoven. How had this happened to him? Why did he all of the sudden just be _terrified_ of his first love since he could _move his arms?_ It just didn’t make any sense.

She had seen, though, his fingers move in the same pattern as the beginning of one of his favorite pieces, Moonlight Sonata, so she knew for a _fact_ that it was still in him. He was still a musician deep down inside with a love for music so fiery and passionate that no one could ever take it from him but himself. Which, incidentally, that was what he had done. All Lucy had to do now was figure out how to make him open up, and it wasn’t going to be easy, but it was doable.

 _Everyone says that shower thoughts are the best thoughts, so let’s see what this particular shower has to offer,_ she thought, massaging shampoo through her hair. _I’ve got to get myself together before I get anyone else together._

***

 

 

For the next few weeks, Schroeder went to see Lucy once a week, and _couldn’t stop thinking about her until they met again_. Poor Charlie Brown put up with his ranting about how much she annoyed him sometimes, or how much fun he’d had the week before, just talking and chilling out. He found himself growing quite fond of Miss van Pelt, and, frankly, it scared the living daylights out of him. He was used to feeling only _repulsion_ from her, not attraction. He was out of his depth, and Charlie Brown let him know that very quickly.

“You talk about her all the time.”

“I know.”

“You used to really hate her, and now you think that she’s funny, smart, and has good music taste.”

“She plays Beethoven every time we hang out. Of _course_ I think she has good music taste! And, she’s really nice now.”

“Nice?! She’s a fussbudget!”

“You’re the one who set up my first appointment with her, Charlie Brown, so I don’t get why you’re so concerned.”

The other boy only smiled. “It’s just ironic.”

“What’s ironic?” Schroeder demanded, arms crossed.

“That your roles have been pretty much reversed. Or, well, I guess they have. It sure seems like you’re pining after her to me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the blonde scoffed. “We are just friends.”

“Sure.”

That conversation got Schroeder to thinking though. It had been a long, long time since he’d been with someone. He recalled when he’d gotten kicked out of the music academy, he had been with a lot of people, men and women alike, trying to find that which was missing from his heart. He still hadn’t found it, but he felt closer to finding it now than he had all those years ago in the beds of strangers, hurt, rejected, and confused, wondering what was to become of him.

When he visited Lucy that week, he was a little anxious with all these thoughts bouncing around in his head, and she, taking notice of it, plopped down by him, sitting elbow to elbow.

“Hey,” she said, leaning slightly into him.

“Hi,” he replied.

“Watcha thinkin’ bout?” she asked, looking up at him.

He shrugged. “Not much. Can we go for a walk today?”

“Sure,” she smiled, hopping up. “It is almost Christmas, and I have a bit of window shopping to do before I actually buy stuff. So how about we take a walk through the mall?”

“That sounds fantastic,” he replied, not feeling very fantastic at all.

Lucy’s dark brows drew together in concern. “Are you okay? We can have some hot chocolate and just stroll for a bit.”

Schroeder shook his head. He felt too sick to even move, and was convinced that if he just got up and walked, that he would be better. “No. You pick. Let’s just walk.”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

They walked for a bit, and it was very chilly out, so they ducked indoors to find some warmth. Lucy bought a little cup of hot chocolate from a vendor that they shared, and Schroeder tried to be happy, but something was just _missing_ today. He was on the verge of discovering what it was, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, which was discouraging.

“Schroeder?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you sad?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sad.”

“Is it something I did?”

“It’s nothing that anyone did.”

“Is it… is it a lover that’s made you sad?”

Schroeder looked down into those dark eyes and saw an emotion there that he couldn’t place. “No. There is no one.”

“I think you need to go home,” she said, feeling his forehead. “You’re acting funny.”

“I don’t have a home. I have a house that I live in, but it is not a home,” he replied with grim sternness.

“Then come to mine. I have a piano in my living room,” she smiled.

All of the sudden, Schroeder had a worse feeling than anything, but he couldn't describe what it was. “You don’t play the piano.”

“Stellar observation skills you have there, sir,” Lucy laughed, her eyes twinkling.

“You always said you would marry a man who plays the piano. Do you plan on that soon?” he couldn't ask the real question: _is there someone else?_

Sensing his meaning, she shook her head. “Nope. Come home with me, and I can take care of you. I really do think you’re sick, but what _kind_ of sick, I don’t know.”

 _What harm can it do?_ “Okay. Let’s go.”

 

 

***

 

 

Soaking wet, Lucy and Schroeder both stumbled into her house, cold, out of breath, and laughing a bit. Midway to Lucy’s house, it had begun to rain, then it snowed, and they had made a run for it.

“Here, I’ll go get us some towels,” Lucy said, smiling at the taller, who was smiling down at her. “Just sit tight.”

She was glad the wind could be used for an excuse for her bright red cheeks, when, in actuality, she was blushing because she was in _love_. Over the last few weeks, her feelings for Schroeder had evolved into something entirely different than her old infatuation. Now, she knew she loved him. The way he was witty and sarcastic, the way he laughed, his smile, his eyes, his everything. She loved him, and she couldn’t help it. She grabbed an armful of towels and some of Linus’ clothes that he had left at her place, hoping they would be about Schroeder’s size. When she rounded a corner she saw Schroeder putting on a vinyl record of the Danube Waltz.

“Having fun there, guy that doesn’t own my house,” she joked.

He looked up and smiled slightly, but it was nothing like before. This smile was not as real, not as intense as the other. This smile was wrong. “Yeah. Throw me a towel.”

“You can change into this in the spare bathroom,” she said, handing him the towel and the clothes. “These belong to Linus so they should fit pretty well.”

“Thanks Lucy.”

Lucy went into her own bathroom and changed, drying her hair as well as she could before putting it in a bun. She worried with it for a bit, but then just resigned to the fact that the opportunity for impressing the man had passed, and that she’d have to just deal with it. Once she had changed, she padded down the hall to clean up the wet mess when she tripped and bit her tongue at the sight before her.

Schroeder stood at the end of the hallway mopping up the mess, completely shirtless and wearing her little brother’s too-tight pajama pants. Luckily, she regained her composure before he turned around.

“We made a really big mess,” he informed her, in case it wasn’t obvious enough. “I’ll clean it up.”

“Okay. In that case, I’ll go make hot chocolate,” Lucy said, slipping out of the living room before she could embarrass herself.

 _It’s okay, breathe, e you’ve never seen a shirtless man before and you didn’t even react,_ she thought, pouring milk into a saucepan. _Chests aren’t even attractive._

 _But not the man you’re in love with, hun. That makes all the difference. Because you’re in love with him, he is attractive, not the other way around,_ a voice in her head that was clearly illogical stated matter-of-factly.

Somehow, she managed to make the hot chocolate without burning herself, and she brought a mug out to Schroeder, who was now sitting on the couch. She plopped down beside him after she handed him his cup, and they just sat there, enjoying being in one another’s company in total silence. Well, except the background music. With Schroeder, there was always background music.

Without warning, Schroeder jumped up with this magnificent smile, his face completely aglow. “Shall we dance?”

Lucy smiled and accepted his dramatically offered hand. “Why, of course!”

Together, they waltzed. They whirled and twirled like there was no one was watching, and yet as though the whole world was, all at the same time. Lucy felt time mesh together as the energy of the dance heightened. She could feel this energy from her head to her toes, and she knew Schroeder was feeling it too, by the way his body moved against hers. After another turn, they came back together and just _stopped_ , their faces inches apart.

Every fiber of Lucy’s being pulled toward that gap, wanting to close it. The attraction was almost like a magnet, pulling her ever closer, and pulling against it was as unnatural as it was ineffective.

“Lucy,” his breath fanned her face, and she shivered involuntarily with want.

“Schroeder,” her voice, even to her, sounded like a plea for help, for mercy from this need to be closer.

The arm at her waist slid around and embraced her firmly, and Schroeder moved his forehead to touch hers. He laced his other hand through her hair, and said, “Is this okay?”

Lucy’s voice had gone, so she only nodded and hoped to God that he could see the passion burning in her eyes, and knew that it was for him, all for him.

It happened in an instant, with no warning and no hesitation. It happened so fast that Lucy hadn’t even known she’d done it until their lips were smashed together. Afterwards, she’d been informed that she _hadn’t_ done it, but _Schroeder_ had. Regardless of who started it, neither of them wanted to end it. When they did pull away from the kiss (if you could call it that-- it was more like smashing faces together), Lucy silently cursed her need to breathe.

“That wasn’t how that was supposed to go,” Schroeder said, running a hand through his hair.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that, uh--”

“It was supposed to go more like this,” he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips tenderly, and with so much passion she could’ve fainted. “M’ out of practice, y’know?” he said before kissing her again, slipping his tongue into her mouth. The way he kissed screamed “musician”. It was like he was trying to learn her mouth, to learn it by heart and know exactly what made her weak in the knees. Just as music was a very precise art, it seemed that kissing was equally as precise with him.

“I’ve thought about this all day,” he confessed between kisses. “Well, I mean, _something_ , but I didn’t know it was this until now—God, you taste heavenly.”

Lucy’s world was in the sky. A dream she’d had since she was a child was finally being realized, and she just didn’t know what to do other than focus on the here and now of it.

He kissed her neck in _that one spot_ that made her whole body quiver, and she felt him smile into her skin. “Sensitive much?”

“Can it, blockhead, and do your job,” she gasped as he bit the spot.

He slipped his hands up to the waistband of her jogging pants and she stopped him, her mind switching momentarily into coherent thinking. “Wait.”

Those azure eyes met hers almost apologetically. “Sorry. I assumed too much. Got ahead of myself, I guess--”

“No! I mean, I’d gladly do that with you, it’s just…” she sighed. “I want to make sure that it means the same thing to you that it means to me.”

All at once, his face visibly tightened. “And what does it mean to you?”

She swallowed. “It means that I love you, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re it for me. I’m it for you. I don’t like sharing. I want it to be us. Just us.”

Schroeder looked more and more relaxed with each word. When she had finished, he plopped down on the couch and pulled her on top of him so she was straddling his lap.

“It means all that to me and so much more,” his eyes shown with passion, and, to her, he had never been more beautiful. “You are worth more than all the music in the world.”

Lucy’s heart fluttered, and she couldn’t help but think, in the back of her mind, that that was definitely _not_ healthy.

 

 

***

 

 

Schroeder had never ever ever ever ever EVER been so turned on by _everything_ a person did. From her breathy moans all the way down to the way her eyes closed when she felt something _amazing_ , it all made the blood rush directly south, and Linus’ stupid, too-tight pajamas weren’t helping his raging boner one bit.

Since he was stopped the first time, he just let Lucy do all the undressing. She was down to a plain black bra and panty set, no lace, no décor, in the typical Lucy fashion. Simple, comfortable, functional. He kissed a line down her perfect, milky white skin to her breasts, which weren’t large at all. Average, he’d say. But they were perfect all the same, because they were _hers,_ and that was all that mattered.

Hesitantly, she reached for the waistband of the pajama pants he was wearing, and pulled down. This was the sketchy part, the part where everyone else he’d been with freaked out. He closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer that her reaction wouldn’t be so bad.

He kept his eyes closed the whole time, opening them only once he felt the cool rush of air around him. He tried to judge by Lucy’s face what she was thinking, but she was completely stoic.

“That’s big,” she commented, with no audible emotion in her voice.

“Get that a lot, really.”

She gave him a look. “And exactly how many people _do_ you show your penis to?”

He chuckled. “That’s a story for another day.”

“I can take it,” she said boldly, with the cocky assurance that only Lucy could manage at all times.

“What?” Schroeder asked, a bit confused.

“That dick. I can take it, I know it. I haven’t ever taken any before but I know I can--”

“Wait, you’re a _virgin_?” Schroeder was appalled. Lucy was a beautiful woman with a lovely smile and gorgeous hair. Her brows were perfectly shaped, and, if one happened to look past those lovely, dark, bewitching eyes, they would also find a perfect body.

Immediately, she lost a bit of her confidence. “Yeah.”

Schroeder felt bad, so he told her the most honest truth he could tell her. “I’m glad,” he murmured, looking her in the eyes. “I don’t like sharing. I am, however, honored to be the first one to have you. I regret that I can’t say the same. Your first love has a significant meaning, you know?”

“Pfft. I don’t care about being your first love. That doesn’t mean crap,” she said, caressing the side of his face. “I just want to be your last love, the love that taught you that you could feel again after you felt so broken that there could be no return to the former you. First love is so overrated.”

Schroeder laughed. Her words were of such conviction and such passion that he just laughed with the joy of it. “Lucy, you’re amazing.”

With that, they got on with the show, doing what lovers do when no one else is home.

 

 

***

 

Lucy woke sore, groggy, but ridiculously happy. Well, the last part only for a little while, until she realized Schroeder wasn’t next to her. She got up, slipped on a translucent nightgown and walked achily down the hall, feeling like there was a knot in her stomach until she heard the soft plink of piano keys. Warmth spread from her chest to everywhere else along with happiness and relief exceeding all she’d ever known.

She came to the living room where he sat at the grand piano, playing ever so softly, but with enough passion to make the room swell. She had never heard anything so powerful in all her life. It grew in intensity and in volume, filling the entire house, and then back down, and then back again, even more intense than before, cascading runs beneath the melody fading away as the song came to its end. Her heart had leapt with the music, and now it slowed with it, and for a moment, she could’ve sworn she could fly.

Slowly, warily, Lucy placed her hands on the warm shoulders of her lover, who was sitting completely still, as if afraid to break the silence in case the moment slipped away.

“Lucy,” he breathed. “It was you. It was you all along, and I was _so blind_ … Lucy, you are the reason I can play. You’re the answer, and were all along.”

Lucy’s heart leapt into her throat, and she just kissed his head. “Schroeder--”

“No, Lucy, you don’t get it, I can _play_ again! And it’s all because of you! You were that missing piece, that gaping hole in my chest, it was all you!” he turned around with the brightest smile. “I wrote that, you know, while I was away.”

“I could tell. It was beautiful,” she replied, smiling as wide.

“I wrote it thinking of you. I really and truly did, and though I didn’t think of you this way then, it perfectly describes how I feel about you now,” he kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I’m going back to music school. I’m going to do what I always wanted, and I’ll make enough money so that you won’t have to work, just like you always dreamed, and I’ll--”

She hushed him with a finger. “I don’t even care about all that. As long as you love me, I can support you physically, emotionally and financially, however you need. As long as you need me as much as I need you, nothing else matters.”

“But I _want to_.”

“And that’s fine. Just don’t ever think you have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Schroeder just smiled happily, and suggested they shower and get dressed for the day. Lucy called in sick to work-- she deserved a day off.

 

***

 

When everyone found out what had happened that day, the whole gang was excited. They had heard of Schroeder’s struggles, and now that he was happy, they were happy for him, and, now that Lucy’s life was complete, they were happy for her as well.

A few years later, Lucy and Schroeder were married. They raised children together and conquered the ups and downs of married life, standing by one another even when they felt like it just wasn’t going to work. Lucy was still bossy and Schroeder was still sarcastic, but they made it through it all. Through Schroeder’s travels with his music (the demand for his talents was high) and Lucy’s aversion to homeschooling, they made it work. It wasn’t a fairy tale ending, but it was close enough for the both of them. Their vows were kept until their last dying breath and thereafter, and that was all that mattered.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
